Basic Necessity
by Boomer Gonzales
Summary: When Ferro accepts an operative of her own, will her intentions remain professional or will she find that something missing in her life. MATURE AUDIENCES ONLY!
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I do not own the rights; property, intellectual, financial, distribution, etc., to _Gunslinger Girl_. All rights therein are the possession of Yu Aida, Media Works Inc., and Funimation Entertainment. The above mentioned property is being used without permission or written consent.

**ADVISORY WARNING: This fiction contains scenes of graphic sexual depiction. Mature Audiences only. By continuing to read further you have acknowledged this warning and confirmed your legal age to view said material according to the laws and legal standards of your respective area(s).**

**I**

A dim stream of light cast a pall shadow within the vast hall lending to it an air of subtle isolation. Against the furthest wall lies a rustic bed, a hint of varnish decorating its wizened posts. The only other decoration to this subtle sanctuary; is the heavy breathing of two lovers accompanying the groan of the metal-on-metal in tune. Conjoined in illicit concert, this hall is made over into a gallery of rapture.

With pull and thrust met in kind by way of reckless abandon, the man and woman grinded their bodies together. Almost forcing themselves into and upon each other, they tried to make the other concede to the greater lust of the victor.

Amid a thin ray of light invading the room, the woman had emerged illuminated, finding aim to accuse her sensuously demanding form. It gazed at her curvaceous legs, gawked at her pert rear; and gaped at her wondrous, perky breasts. In defiant mockery, the light would only unveil the man's slender yet masculine hands; hiding his face and body from immediate sight. The woman could feel his hot, steamy breath against the nape of her neck while his hands roamed her body like a well used road. Yet; as if by is command, the slight glow of the doorway teased the woman's eyes for she could feel him everywhere and in spite of that not see the lover before her.

With beads of sweat glistening off her short, cropped hair; the woman swiftly rolled herself onto her prize. Maneuvering his leg upon her shoulder, the woman sheathed his magnificent organ into her and began to drive herself upon it with complete lack of control or restraint. Now with furious intensity, it appeared that she was penetrating him her pace was so swift. With the change in position and tempo, the man was at the woman's complete mercy.

Arching her back, the woman approached an almost violent pace. Now at her mercy she would not release her trophy until he climaxed for her pride demanded it. The man's voice became a carnal mix of anguished moaning coupled with labored breathing while the woman screamed in elation. Her climax approached, yet she would deny herself this primal treat until the man under her released himself unto her in submission.

Yet her own body would betray her as surge after surge of blissful spasm erupted into her appendages despite the woman's mental appeal. Finally, as she reached the height of physical emotion; the stream of light grew as it showered the woman in dazzling radiance.

* * *

Opening her eyes, the morning dawn crept its way into the apartment of Ferro Milani. Cursing the daylight, Ferro turned over to allow herself a few moments of contemplation. The motion, the penetration, the sheer physical exertion; it all felt so real. All of it, save for the climax. A man releasing himself is supposed to bring about and intensify her own orgasm, yet without actually experiencing such, even her dreams left her unfulfilled.

Cursing the dawn once more, Ferro tossed aside the silk bedspread revealing a violet silk teddy that seemed to caress her every movement. With a few stretches; Ferro arose from her bed and with a simple shrug of her shoulders, the delicate garment fell neatly to the floor. A final overhead stretch of her arms gave Ferro the very image of a goddess from Roman legend before lightly stepping into her bathroom.

With practiced efficiency, Ferro was ready for another day at the office within an hour. A glance at the window informed her that the dawn had broken into morning. Gathering her briefcase, Ferro took a minute to gather her. The images from her ideal reverie last night refused to leave her. In turn, her blossom ached for attention after being neglected for a third straight night. Another deep breath and Ferro pushed her shameful thoughts to the back of her mind.

"Tonight," Ferro thought aloud. "Tonight, I'll please myself and put this demon to rest for a time. If only…if only I didn't have that dream afterward."

* * *

The day began with the usual routine. First; organizing her desk, then unpacking her briefcase, finally sitting to check her voice-mail and jot down the urgent and important messages. However, one specific message had become routine for Ferro's morning errands. Director Giacomo Lorenzo had become increasingly adamant on her obtaining an extranormal assistant for herself.

After his own _assistant_ had proven herself useful in multiple instances, Director Lorenzo presented the idea to the other senior administrators of Section Two. All, Ferro included, did not liken to the idea as much as the Director had. Yet, for some reason, Lorenzo assumed that if Ferro accepted an _assistant_, the others would as well.

Thanks to the increased activity from separate terrorist factions, Ferro's workload had begun increasing to an exponential level. An assistant would take away some stress, but an extranormal operative seemed out of place somehow. It was as if the integrity of the cyborg program would become degraded by such a proposal. Though thinking back to the beginning, Ferro considered worse things could happen to the program.

Soon after Director Lorenzo's message subtly mentioned a potential operative assistant, Ferro quickly deleted the message with the knuckle of her middle finger. Finished with her initial tasks, Ferro began her main tasks of processing the intelligence from the day before and organizing it into scheduled missions. Upon completion, all that remained was to assign the fratello to their respective optimal assignment. Looking at the wall clock, Ferro decided to postpone that task until after midday.

The Director had called an emergency meeting at noon. This meeting would include Warehouse Director Jean Croce, Development Director Ricardo Bianchi, and herself. The details of this meeting were not disclosed, yet these four had only met in secret twice before. The first occurred during the Elsa Di Sica incident and the second during the Alpha insurrection.

With less than an hour before the Director's meeting, Ferro had a few rare moments of _dead time_. These scarce occasions frightened Ferro, for it was during this time her most sordid passions bore fruit upon her emotions bringing her into a state of want. The multiples of lewd images and desires spawned forth from her imagination. Thoughts of flesh touching flesh and vulgar acts of debauchery invaded her soul, yet the knowledge of these acts lacking from her immediate future did as well.

Just as Ferro's control of her physical impulse began to collapse, her phone rang like an emergency siren calling her back to reality. On the third ring, Ferro answered her phone.

"Go ahead," Ferro answered.

"The meeting with Director Lorenzo has been postponed until mid-day tomorrow," a steely voice responded over the receiver.

"May I ask why?"

"The Director has been requested for a luncheon with the Madam Vice-Chairwoman."

"I see; then tomorrow at midday."

"Thank you for your patience Miss Milani."

Hanging up, Ferro leaned back into her chair to contemplate options on the remaining morning and afternoon. Staring at the ceiling, her feelings of want once again stirred around her mind. With a breath and a blink, Ferro conceded to finish her paperwork somewhere besides the closed confines of her small office. Perhaps somewhere public; where shame will check her impulses in place of willpower.


	2. Chapter 2

Down time was a very rare opportunity for those within the Social Welfare Agency and even more so for those within the administration. To them it was a brief slice of heaven; that seemed too short to be true. Sitting in a corner booth at her favorite café, Ferro took this time to catch up on her paperwork in a more relaxing atmosphere, or so she told herself.

"I'm telling you the truth, that guy from the disco was hung like a goat," a young woman said in passing.

"No; he can't be," her friend responded as they sat in the booth next to Ferro's. "You have to be lying."

"I'm serious, I've been taking aspirin all day and I _still_ feel sore."

"Okay, fine, I believe you. Just…show me with your hands."

Taking another sip of her espresso, Ferro turned away resisting the urge to take a peek at the demonstration in the next booth.

"Oh; my god," the friend answered. "No, how could you…never mind. Just tell me, how was it?"

"Quiet down, I don't want the whole café to know."

"Being selfish aren't we?"

"Well…maybe a little."

With a shared giggle, the waiter came by to take their order. After he was done, the young man approached Ferro asking if everything was fine. With a brief nod, Ferro returned to her paperwork.

"But to answer your question," the young woman started in a slightly lower voice, "it was great when we got a rhythm going. Before then he just kept trying to impale me with it."

"…Really?"

"Really, I could barely climb out of bed this morning."

"Well, you know what I say. It's one matter to have the proper…_tools_; it's another to have a good set of _skills_."

"Are you taking about that _gentleman_ you have on the side?"

"I don't know who you're talking about."

"Oh, now who's being selfish?"

After a fit of giggles, the two women lowered their voices to a whisper. Blinking with every other breath, Ferro struggled to concentrate on her paper work. Occasionally a mention of the obscene would reach Ferro's ear and prompt her into another shot of espresso.

Ferro had become accustomed to conversations such as these, or so she thought. Sometimes it felt as if the entire Agency had become aware of her dilemma and would strike up such conversations around her in sheer spite. Normally Ferro would've brush these two off as inconsiderate women who can't keep their business to themselves. Today however, was a curious matter.

Today, she couldn't help being overcome by the urge to clutch at her chest. To grab and knead her prominent breasts like bread dough, until they presented themselves as swollen with pride as she was. With a deep breath, Ferro caught herself reaching inside of her sport coat, curiously fingering a button on her blouse.

Finishing her espresso in one swift gulp, Ferro gathered her paperwork and promptly left the café. Climbing into her blue BMW M3, she turned the ignition and let the car idle. Resting her forehead on the steering wheel; deep breaths accompanied the clenching of her eyes as thoughts of all types ran to and fro in her mind, rising into an ever growing madness. At the heart of all this; she couldn't help, but ask _why_. Ferro wasn't sure if it was the multiple conversations from the day that found their way to her ears or that she refrained from her illicit recreation for so many nights.

"What was I thinking?" Ferro thought aloud, "In a public café of all places? Stupid, stupid, stu…"

A light rapping on her windshield startled Ferro prompting her to reach for the Glock beside the driver's seat. With a smile and a wave, one of the café's waiters held up his hands with a cell phone and tablet PC in his left. Removing her hand from the weapon, Ferro very much hoped he had not witnessed her verbal self-abuse; much more so than her reaching for the pistol. After a deep breath, Ferro lowered her window only to respond in a meek voice.

"…Yes?"

"Apologies madam," the waiter spoke lowering his hands, "I didn't mean to startle you."

Extending his left hand; he offered Ferro her belongings in a cautious manner, "You left these at your table."

"Oh; thank you," Ferro said with an air of embarrassment.

The young, fresh-faced waiter left an impression on Ferro with his sincere demeanor and innocent charm. To her, it seemed that the world of _maschilismo_ had not yet made a mark on this young man. With a simple act of kindness he made her blush, if only slightly. Yet, her flirtatious smile of gratitude would disappear only to be replaced by a frown of disappointment in only a moment's time. Upon taking her belongings, the dull luster of a well worn band of gold shined clear as day around his left ring finger.

"Thank you," Ferro retorted as she fumbled for a quick euro. Holding it out for the waiter to take; he took at from her, but kept his hand closed around her own. Unlike the rough hands of those around her, his was soft and smooth. Not silky like that of a child, but almost like that of the warm, comfortable feel of well-used piece of satin. It was as if the boy just begged to be taken as an innocent.

"I'm sorry if I'm intruding," the young waiter began, "but is something the matter?"

"Nothing you can help me with," Ferro muttered under his breath.

"I'm sorry, I didn't…"

"…Never mind," Ferro quickly interrupted, "I'm just tired is all."

"Very well madam, have a good evening."

"Thank you."

Waiting until his back was turned, Ferro checked the log on her tablet PC. Breathing a sigh of relief, Ferro closed the PC before placing it in her case. Opening her phone to check for any tampering, her relief turned to anger. With the flash of a gold band across the waiter's left ring finger still fresh in her mind, Ferro gazed at the piece of paper with a name and number falling out onto her lap. Resisting the urge to throw the phone out of the window, Ferro grabbed the piece of paper and crumpled it before throwing it out in disgust.

"Pig," Ferro muttered as she put her car into gear and sped off into traffic.

Driving back to the Social Welfare Agency and the sanctity of her apartment in the executive wing, Ferro's anger did little to dispel her rising urge for fulfillment. If anything, it had risen. Pulling into the SWA compound, Ferro quickly parked her car and hurried into the building with her briefcase in tow.

"Oh; Miss Ferro," an assistant from logistics, "the Director asked…"

One stern look from Ferro struck the young woman to her core.

"I'll…just tell him you're busy," the assistant muttered.

* * *

Reaching the personal shelter of her apartment, Ferro dropped her briefcase and clutched at her shoulders. The longing of sensual release was rising to an uncontrollable level. With a glazed look in her eyes, Ferro's mind assaulted her with images of the young waiter at the café. With one last breath, Ferro's eyes cast of their helplessness and took on an image of carnal instinct. Walking to her bathroom, Ferro began to unbutton her blouse and skirt. Placing them neatly folded in her hamper; Ferro took one good look at herself in the mirror. Her lace bra, silk panties, and garter set pleased her not. Striding to her walk-in closet, Ferro placed her heels in their proper place before going to the very back of the closet. Opening a drawer, she carefully sifted through multiple delicate undergarments before deciding a few specific items in particular.

After a long shower, Ferro dressed herself in a pair of crotch less violet panties and a pair of black silk stockings. The very image of her would have made a corrupt aphrodisiac upon any man. Climbing between her sheets, Ferro pulled out a drawer from her side dresser and carefully selected a few items of interest. Soon after, Ferro's hands explored her body like only she knew. With her lust growing ever stronger, it wouldn't take long for Ferro to find her favorite places and explore them with her selected items. After a while, Ferro's moans and screams were all but inaudible.

Thrusting her final implement of pleasure into herself, the high-pitched whirl of compact machinery combining with the lewd sounds of her lustful banter filled the room as if to challenge her screams. Images of that fresh-faced young waiter flew into and out of her mind. Ferro imagined having that young man pinned underneath her as he begged for mercy. In turns; the young man was bound, gagged, or both in a variety of positions. Shoving that faux flesh into her womanhood, Ferro imagined impaling herself with the young man's erect thickness.

So vivid was the image in her mind that she could almost hear his pleas for pity. Yet, the visual reminder of his wedding band left her in a state of cruel intention; she would teach him what it means to stray from a beloved. Ferro would take it upon herself to teach such a man, what it means to forsake something she was incapable of finding. The strength and endurance of her body, honed from years of training in ballet, gave Ferro all she needed to make the young man beg. In her mind, she could see the tears well up in his eyes as his cries of deliverance turned to hoarse whispers. Finally, at long last, Ferro let out a shrill scream as her body released wave after wave of sheer physical emotion.

Gasping for air, Ferro removed the fleshy implement from herself and let it slide from her hand to the floor. As the tingling in her body faintly subsided, Ferro's eyes began to shed tears. With exhaustion taking over, Ferro knew what came next. In her dreams, Ferro would see an event from the past that she hated to relive.


	3. Chapter 3

**III**

_Fifteen years earlier_

"C'mon Fiona, you know I love you," Nicolo said to his girlfriend outside of the Milani residence.

"Then what were those pictures?" Fiona asked. "Who are those other girls?"

"They're nothing; they're like stray cats in an alleyway."

"Stray…cats?"

"Yes, I don't even know those women. Those are just pictures I bought off of my friend, Bernardo."

"Does Bernardo know them?"

"I don't know. They're probably just some women who he convinces of fame so they'll take their clothes off for his photography class portfolio."

"Bernardo takes photography?"

"Yes, at the university. He tells me he's going to France in a month or so to be an apprentice."

"T…then, why do you have them?"

"A man has urges, Fiona. I don't want to sneak around on you, so I have those to tide me over until you're ready.

"Oh; really?"

"Yes; really. Now, don't you feel foolish?"

"Yes, I do. It's embarrassing, I'm sorry Nico. I'll trust you more from now on.

"Well, you'd better. My mother always says a relationship that isn't based on trust is no relationship at all.

"Well…okay; and…and I think I'm ready."

"So, you will apologize with your body?"

"Y…yes Nico."

"Then, I'll expect your apology tomorrow after classes."

"Yes Nico. Will you walk me home, please?"

"No, I can't. Your father will want me to share a drink with him and I have all that class work we didn't do by fighting."

"I…I'm sorry Nico. I'll see you tomorrow then."

Fiona brushed aside a tear as she walked away. She wanted so much to believe Nicolo Milani, but he made it harder with each passing day. Now, it seemed she would have to blossom early in order to keep him. If her father had not adored him so much, she would have left him ages ago.

Watching her leave, Nicolo waited in anticipation for her to turn the corner. Taking a quick glance at his wristwatch, he groaned at the situation he landed in due to his own carelessness.

"Why didn't you tell her _you_ were taking photography classes at the community school?" a voice spoke from behind Nicolo causing him to jump.

Quickly, Nicolo turned raising his arms to his face, anticipating an attack from an open hand. Instead of a grown woman however, a little raven-haired schoolgirl stood before him with a mean scowl across her face. The child's waist length hair flowed freely in the breeze giving the illusion of being a much younger girl.

"Oh; it's just you," Nicolo said taking another look at Fiona who had yet to turn the corner. "You know; she looks good in those heels, but I think I'll buy her a pair of actual shoes so she'll walk a little faster."

"So, why didn't you tell her?" the girl asked again.

"Be quiet half-wit, stay out of matters concerning adults."

"I'll let you know when I see one."

"How much of that did you see anyway?"

"I saw enough to know that you shouldn't be sleeping around on her."

"…Ferro! Yeah, you better walk inside!"

Taking another look down the street, Nicolo made sure that Fiona was completely out of sight before running inside. He had two phone calls to make; the first, to his friend Bernardo; and the second, to his date for the night to explain his tardiness. Bernardo was easy to handle, the usual promise of tail to come was an easy bargaining tool. The boy would have trouble picking up an old, fat Sicilian for goodness sake. His date was another matter, the French woman would only be in town for another night and she seemed very impatient.

"Laurette, I'm sorry I'll be a little late tonight. You see, my sister came home early and I don't feel comfortable leaving her here alone. Watch, I'll prove it. Ferro, you're here aren't you?"

Walking down the stairs, she glanced at him with disgust.

"Drop dead," she said in passing.

"See, she's here; …oh, why thank you. Yes, don't worry I'll pay for the taxi and the hotel. …Okay, I love you."

Dropping the receiver, Nicolo marched right into the kitchen where he found Ferro biting into a fresh tomato.

"You should show me some respect you little whelp."

"So you can treat me like you treat your girlfriends? Forget it."

"I told you half-wit, stay _out_ of my affairs."

"At least you have your definitions right. You should actually look at your class work from time to time, instead of having your girlfriends do it for you."

Taking great offense to this, Nicolo slapped Ferro's tomato out of her hand.

"Now listen _to me_; while father is in Germany _I_ am the man of this house. You will do as I say or you will _feel_ my anger."

Getting a rag from the counter, Ferro wetted it before picking up what remained of the tomato. After depositing the spilled fruit in the garbage, she stood stoic with her back to Nicolo.

"You shouldn't be sleeping around on Fiona," Ferro muttered. "She's not like your girlfriends from before, I…I actually like her."

"She's a woman and she's naïve, like all women."

"No, she's not!" Ferro screamed as she turned to face Nicolo. "She's really going to get hurt when you leave her!"

"And how would you know you little…?"

"I know! I've seen your other girlfriends. You aren't using them as you say with _pride_ to your friends. _They_ are using _you_. Just like that French bitch you're seeing tonight and you're so stupid, you don't even see it!"

With his eyes flaring, he pushed himself against Ferro. The counter dug into her back as she struggled to free herself.

"Nico," Ferro managed, "you're hurting me."

"My own baby sister tries talking back to me; a _man_ of the house?"

"Nico, please…"

"Is it that you want me for yourself, little sister?"

"Nico, no!" Ferro pleaded as Nicolo held both of her wrists overhead.

"Let's see if you'll do, no?"

"Nico, I…I'll tell mother!" Ferro screamed as her brother unbuttoned her jacket.

"So; that hag is probably stone drunk by now. She's always like that when father's gone."

"Please, don't Nico."

"You lost your chance to plead forgiveness, you spoiled little brat."

"Nico…" Ferro pleaded in futility as her brother unbuttoned her blouse.

Pushing aside the thin flaps of cloth, Nicolo smirked at Ferro loosening his grip. He gazed for a moment at the creamy twin mounds hiding themselves behind a strained cotton bra.

"Impressive, for a 14-year old; but this is nowhere near enough to satisfy me."

Feeling Nicolo's grip loosen, Ferro tried to stand straight only to be pushed against the counter again.

"Now, I _should_ be getting ready for my date with a _real_ woman."

Taking a few steps to the door, Nico stopped to let this feeling last a little longer.

"Pig," Ferro said from behind Nicolo. "All of you, pigs. I wondered why _real_ women call you that, and now I know. You, your friends, all of you; are nothing but the most filthiest and disgusting of creatures."

"Why you…" Nico yelled ready to rush at Ferro in fury. Yet, the sight before him detoured his actions.

Standing straight and proud, Ferro had removed her blouse and bra revealing herself to Nicolo. Her sizable, perky breasts seemed as if they wanted to attack him and in a way, they did.

"F…Ferro," Nicolo stuttered. "What are you doing?!"

"You wanted to look at them? So look at them."

Nicolo was stunned by what he saw. Her poise, her posture, despite his unwillingness to admit it, Nicolo's baby sister had already begun developing into a mature woman. Now, before his very eyes, she was punishing him with the very sight of her body.

"Well, say something. You want to yell at me, to lash out at me? Then do it."

Nicolo's mind struggled with the words as he tried in vain to look away from Ferro's chest.

"You can't can you? You can't even look away. You're mind is always ready to see this, just like a pig takes to table scraps."

Struggling once more; he attempted to say something, but Nicolo was at a complete loss. It was as if Ferro had captured him with pride alone and for the first time in his life, Nicolo felt…submissive. As if his only wish was for the half-naked schoolgirl before him to simply tell him what to do. Running up the stairs to his room, Nicolo laid out his clothes for his date. This was a feeling that he did not like.

Back in the kitchen, Ferro was left alone staring at her faint reflection in the pantry glass. The indecent image before her captured Ferro's mind, body, and soul. She could still feel Nicolo's gaze as his eyes traced every supple curve in her small, nubile form. It was on this painful day, her innocent curiosity would become an obsession.


	4. Chapter 4

**IV**

Slowly opening her eyes, she could feel the sticky sensation of dried sweat upon her skin. Like previous nights, she woke to the feeling of disappointment. Sinking herself deeper into her pillow, Ferro recalled the previous night's recreation. The hard breathing returned as Ferro's body betrayed those actions upon her memory. Turning to her side, the slight bit of shame associated with her Catholic background quickly left.

Blinking once, Ferro spied the thin stream of light invading her apartment. Almost accusingly, it lit the small lump at her side prompting Ferro to slowly peel back the silk blanket. Her tools of self-satisfaction lay there; ready and willing at her command.

Her elder brother's promiscuity gave Ferro a harsh education in _machilismo_. Yet knowing the pleasure of sensual surrender without knowing the touch of a man left her confused on more than one occasion. Caught by her mother, that woman labeled Ferro a slut and a whore in her youth. During her university days at Turin, Ferro's lack of voice control at the point of climax earned her the label of pervert.

'What am I?' Ferro thought as the thin residue from one instrument glared in the faint morning daylight.

Before she could answer, the light beeping from an alarm awoke her other senses. Gathering the few bedside items, she took them to her bathroom. Placing each item on the vanity, Ferro leaned over to turn her shower on. Taking a moist towlette from the container, she cleaned her first tool of pleasure taking meticulous care to get between the ridges. After caring for her last item, Ferro placed them within a hand towel before shedding the thin, silk babydoll she wore. Catching a glimpse of her supple body in the mirror, Ferro frantically attempted to erase yesterday's overheard conversation from her mind.

* * *

"Morning; vice-director," a fellow agent spoke in passing. A nod would be all he received as would other agents.

Any other morning, Ferro would maintain the icy exterior her position demanded. She would go about the day handling calls, giving orders, and organizing assignments; all with the same expressionless gait. Yet today, she was having trouble maintaining her composure. Today, her emotions seemed to be getting the better of her.

Reaching her office was a godsend when Ferro broke into a cold sweat.

'What's happening to me?' Ferro thought as her hands began idly exploring her body. Taking notice of the sheer definition of it made Ferro blush a new crimson. Reaching for the door lock, Ferro explored the inside of her blouse. Release, if only temporary, was something she desired with carnal enthusiasm. Her substantial and perky breasts, those round and prideful hips, the inviting nature of her waist, and the charismatic curve of her rear accenting her strong defined legs; all made the men around her weak. Alone, it was as if she could feel their eyes undressing her.

'If only…' Ferro thought, daring her wandering hand to brush against her silk bra.

'If only…' she thought again, a light moan beckoning to escape her smooth lips.

A knock on her door saved Ferro from passing her point of no return. The angels appeared to be watching over her this day. Turning, she saw a small blonde form at her door wearing that typical maid outfit; Director Lorenzo's doll, bodyguard, and personal assistant; Tea. Ferro walked about the office making it appear as if she were readying herself for the day. Tea knocked again, yet Ferro persisted giving herself enough time to let the blood drain from her face. All personnel within the compound knew Ferro would not answer a soul until she was ready to. The cyborgs however seemed to neglect this fact. Three series of knocks and Ferro checked herself in the computer monitor's reflection. Taking a deep breath, she answered the door to look down at the small maid before her.

"Yes, Tea?" Ferro asked with her returned sense of distance. "May I help you?"

"Director Lorenzo wishes you to process these," Tea uttered with a familiar impassive expression.

"Are they urgent?"

"He did not say."

"Are they operation related?"

"He did not say."

"Are they intelligence sensitive?"

"He did not say."

Tea stood still with no motion to return to her handler. After a few tense minutes, Ferro noticed that the hallway was now full of agents and office personnel going about their daily business. Stepping aside, Ferro waved little Tea in just before taking a quick look in the hallway. After bolting the door shut and flicking a small toggle above the doorjamb, Ferro crossed her arms and gazed at the small child.

"Go ahead," Ferro uttered.

"The materials contain intelligence documentation on a new independent cell. They are neither Five Republics nor Red Brigade, but they seem to be vying for the strength of influence with both."

"Did the Director say anything more?"

"Yes, Miss Ricci. He wanted to know if you had given any thought to his request."

"Where is Director Lorenzo now?"

"He is in a teleconference with Madam Marie-Petrice and the Interior."

"Then I will speak with him on that at a later time," Ferro uncrossed her arms.

"As you wish Miss Milani."

"Is there anything else?"

"Yes, Miss Milani. The Director would like to confirm your appearance at the special meeting later today."

"I'll be there, Tea; anything else?"

"No, Miss Milani."

"Then you may go, Tea."

With a curtsy, Tea quickly took her leave. Closing the door behind her, Ferro lazily made her way back to the desk. Flopping down in the comfortable leather chair, Ferro reflected on the events of the morning. Approaching her thirties concerned her, but not in the way one would expect. Today made Ferro aware that she was losing control of her sensual inhibitions with increasing severity. Despite the pride she gave to her restraint, Ferro was reaching her feminine breaking point. Overhearing stories and conversations like the day before lent no quarter to this fact.

If anything, it only made her purchase instruments and manuals that became more perverse in nature. The latest, a book on Kegel exercise, succeeded in making a bad problem worse. Leaning back, Ferro had no clue of what could be done. Men had a tendency to boast about their size and potency. It was only after processing reports from the infirmary regarding yearly physicals did she realize this. Even if she would single out a sizable favorite, the habit of men to boast never escaped her thoughts. To conquer the _Iron Maiden_ was something of much discussion in the cafeteria. Discretion wasn't a typical male trait in Italy, in more than a few areas. If only the men of Italy would allow themselves to be conquered, to be owned by the will of her body. To submit to the power of her sexual hunger and be bound and gagged by it. If only…

* * *

"Good morning; Ferro," Director Lorenzo said as she strode into his office.

"Hello; Director," Ferro nodded in response. "Jean…"

"Morning," Jean said in kind.

"Is this meeting regarding the upcoming mission?" Ferro asked.

"Actually, no; everybody has their place in that little matter. This issue has something to do with a current fratello."

"A fratello…?"

A moment later, Doctor Ricardo Bianchi arrived in the Director's office and took a seat next to Ferro without a word to any of the other attendees.

"Now that we are all here," Director Lorenzo started, "we can begin."

"Yes; Director," Ferro said as Bianchi interlaced his fingers upon his lap and Jean gave a curt nod in Lorenzo's direction.

"Affection between a cyborg and her handler is something we have come to expect. This has been a proven fact from the first proto and test-types to the current first-generation types still in service today. In recent years, as in years past, that affection has been largely one-sided. However, a piece of footage has come to my attention telling us that line is being crossed."

Picking up a small remote, Director Lorenzo shifted the attention of his audience to the view-screen behind them. After a few minutes of Petrushka performing a private ballet recital, the group was treated to a scene of affection between Petra and her handler Alessandro.

"Wow," Bianchi said abruptly, "they're really going at it."

"Bianchi; please," Lorenzo said in an annoyed tone. "This is a serious issue that needs to be addressed immediately."

"In what way; Director," Jean added in response. "I was under the impression that the training and conditioning methods of an EJO were in the direct discretion of their handler."

"This is an obvious misuse of discretion," Lorenzo responded to Jean's smug demeanor. "Agent Ricci is responsible for the first of the new second-gen types. If subsequent handlers follow his example; my main concern lies with what reprimands Vice-Chair Monica-Petrice might come up with."

"I recommend we allow this to continue," Bianchi added finally breaking his silence. "It'll provide more subject analysis for the Behavioral Science Division within the Neuroscience Department."

"Bianchi, this is not one of your experiments."

"I understand that Director, but…"

"…But nothing. If this becomes public, even within the Agency, the relationships and efficiency of the other fratello may be in jeopardy. May I remind you all; we can ill afford another Elsa."

Silence reigned over the office as Lorenzo's point was heard and felt. Ferro had since bowed her head as if she was debating something within her mind. Bianchi looked over at her wondering why she had yet to take the Director's side.

"It seems your verdict is already decided; Director," Jean said in retort. "So, why call us here to discuss the matter if there is to be no debate?"

Breathing deep for a moment; Lorenzo leaned back into his chair, "I wanted another perspective on how to salvage this issue. The Alessandro-Petrushka fratello have an excellent work history as a recon and support unit. I wanted to see if any of you had a viable solution to this dilemma without compromising their efficiency."

"Ferro," Bianchi abruptly called, "you've been awfully quiet through this…discussion. Don't you have anything to say?"

Another brief silence enveloped the room as those in attendance shifted their focus upon Ferro. Closing her eyes, Ferro's mind wandered between thoughts of arranging Alessandro's 'retirement' to the sheer possibilities of such a cyborg-handler relationship; and in one spark of inspiration; Ferro came to a decision, "I say we should not interfere in this fratello's…relationship."

Taken aback by the sudden revelation, Bianchi and Jean gave Ferro their full attention. Lorenzo leaned over his desk, remembering to take a breath before responding to Ferro's recommendation. The latest bout of silence passed painfully as each of the men struggled trying to understand the motives of their Iron Maiden.

"Miss Milani," Lorenzo managed to get out, "would you please explain your reasons?"

Sitting up straight, Ferro faced her Director with fierce confidence. Yet, she appeared to be staring in the eyes of all three.

"I understand the concern you have for such a relationship, Director. Yet, I can't see a reason to change this fratello's current dynamic. Yes, Alessandro may be crossing the line. Yes, this might have certain repercussions in the far or even near future. However, in understanding the fact we can ill afford another Elsa; another Angelica won't serve us in any progress either."

"I see."

"To change this fratello's dynamic would require a rewrite of Petrushka which might have the same implications that we saw in Angelica."

"So, what do you suggest?"

"I propose we let them be, but not without letting Alessandro know that we know."

"Interesting, I'll consider it. Dismissed."

Walking out of Director Lorenzo's office, both Ricardo Bianchi and Jean Croce noticed Ferro displaying a very wide grin.


	5. Chapter 5

**V**

Taking her leave from the meeting, Ferro's inner thoughts were a mess of emotion. Watching the image of Alessandro and Petra in illicit bliss had eroded whatever sense of control she had on her moral restraint. Thinking on the subject only made Ferro consider Director Lorenzo's proposition more and more. Alessandro and Petra had a certain _special_ relationship; that much was true. The only question remaining was how far they would take it.

Arriving at her office, Ferro plopped down into her chair. Her body ached to be attended to, but for the first time in a while she denied it even a small tease. Alessandro couldn't hold on to his perfect woman, so Petra was inadvertently made in her image. If Ferro couldn't find her perfect man, why couldn't she do the same if only for a short time?

'Just remember to treat him as a tool,' Jean would say.

Smirking at the imagined response, Ferro delved further into her imagination. The further she probed her creative mind; more and more possibilities began to take root. Especially with the Agency's ability to modify the second-gen cyborgs to the handler's specifications, Ferro's mind began to take on a perverse nature. A sensuous smirk crossed her lips as she resisted the urge to lick her lips at the impending satisfaction her appetite would receive. With one deep breath, Ferro closed her eyes and let herself dream of all the things she could have done to her upon request at the obedient will of a cyborg. The sheer imagery was almost too sinful for the devil himself to look at.

Picking up her phone Ferro dialed the short sequence for Director Lorenzo's office. Leaning back in her chair, Ferro gingerly swiveled from one side to the other waiting for the good Director to pick up.

"Lorenzo," the Director answered.

"Hello Director, this is Ferro. Am I interrupting anything?"

"Not at the moment, what's the matter?"

"Well Director, I was thinking about your offer to provide me with a cyborg; to support me in much of the same way your _Tea_ does for you."

"Ah, yes. I wondered when you would accept."

"If I may, I would like to search for a b…child myself. That is if you don't mind."

"Not at all, I'll just have Jean and Bianchi send over the appropriate files for the candidates."

"That won't be necessary Director. I have everything I need at my disposal."

"I see."

"I'll commence my search tomorrow first thing and notify Jean of my selection. I'm ahead of my work for the time being, so as long as there are no emergencies…"

"…Oh, of course; I see no issue."

"Also, sir; I'd like to speak to Bianchi before any…_work_ commences."

"Very well, take a leave Ferro and I'll see you after the weekend."

"Yes, sir; and I thank you."

With the receiver back in its proper place, Ferro couldn't help grinning mischievously at the possibilities to come.

* * *

Back in her apartment within the SWA main building, Ferro poured over file after file of young unfortunates. Priscilla had been eager to hand Ferro a stack of files on potential female subjects, but quickly became nervous when Ferro scowled at her. Upon receiving the harsh instruction, Priscilla rushed to gather the files on potential male subjects taking a little more than hour, but Ferro's disappointment was felt as the male subject files hadn't even reached the female subject stack by half.

The first discretionary on Ferro's list was age; she had no interest in corrupting a small child, but rather a boy on the cusp of manhood. As a result more than half of the files were deemed invalid by Ferro's judgment. The second discretionary was body definition. What good was a well equipped young man if he still looked to be a child? Beyond that, everything else was merely aesthetics. Ferro preferred a fresh-faced youth as opposed to the rough and rugged type and that she would determine from her initial visits. Those who were born the former could have become the latter by whatever unfortunate means. Leaning back in her chair, Ferro huffed in frustration. Out of all the files she had just sifted through, only four had even the minimal requirements she sought. Walking over to her phone, she dialed a short sequence getting Priscilla on the other end.

"Records and Logistics," Priscilla said over the receiver.

"Priscilla, this is Ferro."

"Ah, y…yes ma'am."

"About the files…"

"Oh, is there a…problem?"

"Yes, there is. I want _all_ the files on potential male subjects."

"Actually ma'am, you have them all."

"…All?"

"Y…yes, ma'am."

"How can that be? Accidents happen all the time, how can there be so few male unfortunates?"

"Personally, I blame it on this backward country."

"…How?"

"Well; when the boy's of a family are sick or injured, they are usually cared for over the girl's."

"I see."

"Even if both are either sick or injured, despite the girl being in a more, I guess you could say _salvageable state,_ the family usually chooses to try and save the boy's over the girls."

"…So that the family name will carry on."

"That's pretty much the regard."

"…Men," Ferro grunted under her breath."

"I'm sorry ma'am?"

"Never mind, do you know of an alternative?"

"Maybe, the files we get are typically requisitions from the hospitals around the country. We could try international compact…"

"Priscilla, we had a hard enough time getting Petrushka. We keep using international compact, somebody is bound to look. Besides, they came to us. Do you have anything else?"

"Hmm," Priscilla said as she racked her mind so as not to displease her superior. "Well, there are the clinics."

"…Clinics?"

"Yes, ma'am; most foreigners and unidentified people are sent to smaller clinics as opposed to the hospitals. Unless there was a dire emergency of course, but the medical authorities have been getting really stringent with who is admitted if they aren't verified as an Italian citizen. There could be potentially tens or even hundreds of …um… boys…out there…for…you."

"I see."

"I…I wasn't implying anything ma'am!"

"What; oh, never mind that. I want you to get me a list of all the _clinics_.

"Yes, ma'am; I'll have that list to first thing in the morning."

"Why so long?"

"There are a lot of clinics, ma'am; much more than there are hospitals."

"I see, in that regard, don't bother sending it to my office. Just bring it directly to my apartment."

"Yes, ma'am; will there be anything else?"

"Would it be possible to get me a current listing of the patients at these clinics?"

"It won't be easy, but I'll try."

"Very well, thank you."

Hanging up the receiver, Ferro quickly picked it up and dialed a completely new sequence. After a fourth ring, Ferro became increasingly impatient. A fifth and a sixth ring followed before Ferro was diverted by Dr. Bianchi's voice-mail answering message. After the signature 'beep', Ferro wasn't amused in the slightest.

"Bianchi," Ferro began her message, "I am coming to see you this moment and I have urgent matters to discuss with you. If you are not in your office by the time I get there, you had better be busy or there will have me to deal with when _you_ get there."


	6. Chapter 6

_**Author's Note**__**: The term 'egg hunt' is a personal analogy as to a buzz-word alluding to the cyborg selection process.**_

**VI**

Briskly striding to the Medical Research wing of the compound, Ferro's eyes failed to catch a glimpse of Dr. Ricardo Bianchi. Walking into the wing's foyer, Ferro set her eyes directly on the receptionist's desk.

"Where might I find Dr. Bianchi?" Ferro asked the young receptionist glaringly.

Recognizing the woman in front of her as well as the power and influence she held within the Agency; the receptionist froze in her seat at once.

"Um; I' m not sure ma'am," the receptionist answered in a meek voice. "The Director should be in his office. Let me try to page him."

"You do that."

After a few tense moments, Ferro spied Dr. Gilliani out of the corner of her eye. Making a terse wave to the receptionist, Ferro shifted her piercing gaze to that of Dr. Gilliani.

"Gilliani," Ferro called across the foyer.

"What is…," Dr. Gilliani began as he prepared a sound scolding only to stop short after falling victim to Ferro's icy stare. "M…Miss Milani, how may I help you?"

"I need to have a private counsel with you."

"Of course, w…when shall this counsel take place?"

"I would like it to be immediately."

"I'm very busy at the moment Miss Milani, but I can see you first thing tomorrow morning."

"Tomorrow morning will be too late Doctor. I'm scheduled to leave for an _egg hunt_ at 0600 tomorrow."

"Ah, I see. Well, in that case, step into my office and I will be there shortly."

Little time passes by as Ferro waits in the office of Dr. Gilliani, yet she feels neither impatient nor irritated. Errant time to think is something Ferro now has great joy in partaking. While she waits for the good doctor to walk in, Ferro engages in random imaginative exploits. A knocking on the office door woke Ferro from her inspired state, much to her surprise. Opening the door Ferro finds the young receptionist at her feet.

"Um; Miss Milani," the receptionist squeaks. "Dr. Bianchi is in his office now."

"Thank you," Ferro replies. "Oh, and can you please tell Dr. Gilliani to meet us there?"

"Of course ma'am."

* * *

Inside of Dr. Bianchi's office, Ferro arrives just as he finishes listening to her message.

"That's…quite a spirited tone you have there; vice-director," Bianchi said as he deleted the new message.

"Forgive me for my impatience," Ferro replied. "I _am_ a woman and I do not like to be kept waiting."

"Even more so for a woman as occupied as you are."

"Exactly," Ferro said with a smirk.

"So, what is it I can do for you on this fine day?"

"I have inquired Director Lorenzo about procuring a cyborg for myself."

"I never took you as someone in need of a bodyguard or a servant."

"I don't need a bodyguard and I really don't need a servant. What I _do_ need is an assistant who will keep a tight lip about certain things."

"Things like sensitive areas of intelligence."

"…In a matter of speaking."

"I see…"

A moment later, Dr. Gilliani walked into Dr. Bianchi's office.

"I apologize for the delay," Dr. Gilliani said as he took a seat. "Angelica's situation is getting worse, but we can discuss that later."

"Indeed," Dr. Bianchi chimed in. "Ferro has just informed me that she's been selected, so to speak, to be a handler."

"So _you're_ the subject of the _egg hunt_," Gilliani inquired.

"Yes," Ferro answered. "Yes, I am."

"Do you have a child in mind?" Bianchi asked.

"Not at the moment. In keeping with the balance of this place, I've decided to take a male and be a sorella."

"I see," Bianchi said as the subject suddenly interested him. "That won't be easy, especially in the concern of family names and all."

"I'm aware, which is why this _hunt_ will be a prolonged one. I plan on searching the clinics around the country."

"Inventive," Bianchi commended. "I'm impressed."

"So; why are you here so early in the process," Gilliani asked.

"I'm aware of the…modifications you've been able to perform on the Type-2 generation of cyborgs."

"Ah; I see," Bianchi said before picking up his phone. "Claire, would you please bring two coffees for Dr. Gilliani and I and a tea for Miss Milani…thank you."

Hanging up his phone, Bianchi turned back to Ferro.

"Forgive me," Bianchi said. "I know how you dislike our _workman's coffee_."

"That is quite alright," Ferro mentioned. "The tea will be fine."

"What kind of modifications were you thinking of?" Gilliani asked.

A moment later, Claire knocked on the door before walking with three mugs in hand.

"Thank you," Bianchi told the assistant as she handed him his coffee first before depositing the mugs in the hands of the other two.

Waiting a moment for Claire to walk out, the three resumed their conversation.

"Actually," Ferro said before taking a sip of her tea. "I was thinking something along the lines of the unconventional."

"In what way," Bianchi asked.

"Since this boy will be a personal assistant of sorts, I want attention paid to hand and finger strength; enhanced hand and finger dexterity would be a desirable trait as well."

"I see," Gilliani piped in. "You want to use your cyborg much in the way that the Director uses his."

"Precisely," Ferro replied. "The Director and I both agreed that the current workload has become strenuous even by our standards and that the security of what we do here is of the utmost importance."

"So you need an able assistant that knows how to keep a secret," Bianchi mentioned. "Not an easy combination to come by, which is possibly why we have such a shortage of able staff."

"Those are my thoughts exactly," Ferro said before taking another sip of tea. "Also there is another matter I'd like to discuss."

"Yes?" Gilliani asked.

"What would you say if I were to ask you about…appendage modification?"

"I would say it is common practice," Gilliani answered.

"And of special attention paid to the groin region?"

Gilliani then stopped his sip in mid-drink and looked at Ferro with a fixed sense of skepticism.

"Ferro," Bianchi said. "Please pardon me if this offends you, but are you trying to say that you want a…modified penis."

Looking at Dr. Bianchi in the eyes, Ferro simply gave him a sultry smile before turning her attention to the tea in her hand.

"Ferro," Bianchi mentioned. "This…this is highly unethical. To even consider such a proposal, I'm going to have to go to the Director with this."

"There's no reason to go to the Director with any of this," Ferro mentioned while still supplying that sly smile of hers. "This is just a simple request for a specific personal need. Besides, if you did go to the Director, I'll deny everything and the hammer will fall on the both of you."

Taking a big drink of his coffee, Gilliani turned to Ferro with a smile of his own.

"So," Gilliani started "Now that we're in the adult entertainment business, let us go ahead and custom tailor this for you. Would you like bumps and ridges or would you like a natural feel? Since I wouldn't _dream_ of asking you what your _sizes_ are _down there_, I'm going to _ballpark_ this."

"Gilliani," Bianchi said as he half-stood. "That's e…"

Ferro raised her hand stopping Bianchi from executing his authority.

"Yeah, Bianchi; I mean we're conducting business here. Now since the average adult woman is about twenty centimeters in depth, if we aim for that number and a bit more _it_ should fit you like a glove."

Taking another drink of coffee, Gilliani subtly shook his head.

"Why don't we go and make the mark between twenty-eight and thirty centimeters?"

At that comment Gilliani, spat out his coffee and glared at Ferro who had calmly took another sip of her tea.

"Why…I never…Bianchi say something!" Gilliani ranted.

Bianchi leaned forward into his desk and interlaced his fingers as he brought them in front.

"What other modifications would you prefer?" Bianchi asked.

"…Bianchi!!" Gilliani raved as he dropped his mug in frustration.

"I was also thinking of a…eight to ten centimeter circumference for girth."

"That isn't _too thick_, I suppose."

"Of course not, I expect to be filled but not stretched."

"I see; anything else?"

"Are either of you listening to me?" Gilliani pouted.

"I want to be as natural as can be," Ferro orders, "a fully functioning organ, more for the child's sake then for mine."

"…How noble of you?" Bianchi muttered.

"Also, I plan on putting him through some…intense motions; so special attention paid to the any and all lower body muscle structure and endurance would be greatly appreciated."

"Now that is something we can do, but there is one problem."

"…And that is?"

"What you're requesting would be a new venture for this laboratory. To be frank Miss Milani, we have not even thought to attempt modifying the –ahem- _personal anatomy_ of the girls."

"Then this should give you a reason to get up every morning," Ferro smiled at the Doctor.

"You know me too well," Bianchi mentioned before smiling in return.

"So, are we in accord?"

"I'll see what I can do, but being Director of my own department does have its fringe benefits."

"I suppose that it would."

"Also, I can assure you that you will receive the utmost discretion on my side of this…project."

"Not to worry Doctor; as we previously discussed, this project is all about discretion."

Shaking hands, Ferro and Dr. Bianchi agreed to their arrangement with this symbolic gesture. Feeling like a child last picked in an elementary school football match, Gilliani grimaced and sulked as he watched what he perceived as a '_devil's deal_'.

"I will be gone all week; Doctor," Ferro said. "Possibly even longer; I hope you will have good news for me concerning this…special matter when I return."

"I can almost guarantee that you will," Bianchi answered.


	7. Chapter 7

**VII**

The next morning, Ferro had just finished repacking her suitcase and an additional duffel bag. Considering that she would be visiting clinics as opposed to hospitals, a casual wardrobe might better fit the atmosphere and with the list of clinics before her becoming more daunting with each page, Ferro had decided to prepare for additional time should she need it. Taking one more look about her personal apartment, Ferro took a deep breath before heading out for her excursion.

* * *

Meanwhile the other two participants of yesterday's private assembly in the Medical Research Ward sat across from each other in the cafeteria.

As Bianchi glanced at his watch before taking another sip of his coffee, Gilliani finishes his toast; setting the plate aside. They had chosen a time when most of facility had already eaten breakfast for these co-directors from the _engineering_ department had a great need for subtle privacy.

"You know that no good will come from those…_modifications_ Ferro asked for," Gilliani quietly began. "How could she even request such a thing?"

Putting his coffee down, Bianchi crossed his arms, "What _good_ may come is a matter of opinion in this case. However, I understand your meaning. Ferro can only have one need for such a procedure. You may call me a bastard if you like, but I'm actually warming up to the idea."

"Okay, you're a bastard, now tell me why."

"…Research," Dr. Bianchi said as the words dripped from his tongue like honey.

"Bianchi…" Gilliani slumped into his seat. "I've a mind to march up to Director Lorenzo and tell him of Ferro's little request."

"Be realistic; Giacomo Lorenzo trusts but one person in this entire facility. Tell him of this matter and he'll either laugh you out of the room, order you off the premises, or both. All without following up with Ferro whose own moral code would most likely hold no shame and probably admit to the requests either way. Besides, it will be interesting to see the mental and psychological effects of a sexual relationship between handler and cyborg. This is truly a rare opportunity…from an analyst's point of view of course."

"You have got to be joking."

"Not in the slightest, I'm surprised that you aren't jumping at such an opportunity on your end."

"I beg your pardon."

"The male organ has got to be among the most complex anomalies within the human anatomy. If _our_ department can genuinely…and perfectly synthesize one of such definition…"

"I get it; I get it."

Taking a deep, long breath; Gilliani downs the remainder of his coffee. He lets it sit in his mouth a few moments while gathering his thoughts. Moving the cup away, he swallows the coffee slouching into the table.

"Okay," Gilliani adds, "I'll do it. We'll need help though. You said it yourself; so much goes on in these damn things of ours. It'll be easy to overlook something important and that's putting it lightly."

"The thought crossed my mind, but we can't have the whole lab working on something like this. The military and security personnel already know more than I'd like them to. What's worse; they're all _macho_ types. If they find out about this, I wouldn't put it past them to see it as an affront to their masculine dignity and honor."

"True, sabotage on such a delicate project will be something we _cannot_ afford. What if we get a few of our division heads on this?"

"No; not all of them, that's like having too many officers and not enough soldiers."

"What about enlisting 'Brizio only? He might be willing. As far as secrecy goes, it's near impossible to get anything out of that neuroscience division of his, even for you. I think he even has an assistant who'll be of value on this. A noted expert on physiology, I believe."

"Excellent, between the four of us we should be able to make a…superior product. If he isn't already, I'll upgrade that assistant's pay to salary. This way we can work on this when nobody can bother us."

"The only variable left is where to hide it until we're ready."

"Leave that to me, I'll trust you to handle Fabrizio."

"Done."

* * *

"How can she possibly ask for such a thing?" Fabrizio said to his colleague. "I can understand if it was to replace a damaged organ for the patient's well-being, but…with _those_ sizes?"

"I know," Gilliani answered. "I granted my own objections to this matter, but since it's Ferro…"

"Understood, but I'll state here for the record that the _Steel_ _Maiden_ is beginning to overstep her bounds."

"You don't have to tell me that, but from a scientific perspective…"

"I see your point in that regard, after all prosthetic replacement shouldn't be restricted to only a few appendages; especially seeing as how the world is becoming a more _accident-prone_ place."

"So you'll agree to be a part of this project?"

"Yes, and I'll even provide the assistant you requested, but I have one stipulation regarding the project."

"And…that is?"

"I've been working on something that might serve to eliminate the need for consistent medication."

"…Fabrizio, one project at a time."

"Since we're going use this boy as a sort of guinea pig, why not try something more?"

"So, what of this _other _project?"

"It's actually a gland."

"…A gland."

"Yes, by grafting it onto the pituitary gland, this hybrid will secrete the conditioning meds as a hormonal byproduct. As the hormonal cocktail is absorbed by the body, the new medication will self-regulate how much to secrete based on individual tolerance."

"And that would eventually eliminate the need for supervised injections."

"…Precisely."

"It's a very interesting proposal and I see the use for it, but…"

"But nothing," Fabrizio interrupted. "Either you accept this proposal to test out this new treatment or I walk away from the project."

"Let me guess, then you'll go right to the Director about this."

"Not at all; as far as Ferro is concerned our hands are pretty much tied. One way or another, that beast of a woman will get what she wants. Instead, I'll resign my post and you can get another puppet to do the work."

"I…I'll have to speak with Bianchi about his."

"I expect a favorable outcome."

Walking out of Fabrizo's office, Gilliani quickly turned the corner and dove into an empty room. Taking his mobile out of his pocket, Gilliani quickly dialed Bianchi. After a moment, Bianchi picked up on his side.

"Gilliani," Bianchi said in surprise. "Why are you calling me on my mobile?"

"We have a slight problem concerning 'Brizio."

"Tell me."  
"He has this new project that's ready for testing and he wants to use it on Ferro's toy."

"What is the project exactly?"

After Gilliani took a few minutes to explain Fabrizio's proposal, Bianchi breathed a deep sigh.

"That is going to be a problem," Bianchi said.

"So, what are we going to do about it? I doubt he'll go to the Director, but if he suddenly resigns…"

"…It's bound to raise a few eyebrows."

"Do you think he knows about the medication?"

Taking a minute to mull over his choices, Bianchi raised his mobile again.

"Let Fabrizio have his little test," Bianchi started.

"But Bianchi…" Gilliani whined.

"Let me finish. The worst case scenario is that his..._hybrid_ doesn't work and Ferro's toy dies along with it."

"And if it _does_ work?"

"Then we'll just have to make sure that it doesn't work for long."


	8. Chapter 8

**VIII**

Six days had passed since Ferro had begun her search for a suitable boy to serve as her ward and she had yet to find such a child that fit her explicit specifications. She had been to all of the hospitals and clinics in Southern and Central Italy that were listed in the dossier Priscilla had prepared for her. While the number of boys seemed to be short demand even in the clinics, they were either too young or too masculine for her tastes.

Now entering Northern Italy, she was not only getting restless, but a bit anxious. Using some directions she received from the innkeeper at her last stay, Ferro was ready to take a gamble on a small clinic in Formazza. Ferro looked all through her dossier and could not find such a clinic.

The innkeeper had stated that it was a private clinic run by a retired doctor. His main patients were those that had trekked through the Alps and either got hurt within Italy's borders; or who were found injured by other hikers and climbers. When Ferro asked how he could run a private facility, the innkeeper answered that he was pushed out by the state as all doctors do when they reach a certain age. The doctor had no discretion towards whom he would take in and that included foreigners. So with the crudely drawn directions in hand, Ferro set out to find this private clinic.

Having to stop and ask directions more than once, Ferro became quite irritated at this act of desperation; but it was either, take this opportunity or chance returning to the Agency to ask Director Lorenzo for an additional week's leave. With the workload almost certainly stockpiling in her office by now; Ferro was quite sure that the Director wouldn't allow such a thing. An hour after asking for directions, Ferro had finally arrived in Formazza. The clinic was easy enough to spot due to the Staff of Hermes insignia on the wall beside the front door. However Ferro was surprised to find that the clinic was a converted two-story house.

Stepping out of her car, Ferro looked like any other tourist as she shed her favorite business suits in favor of more comfortable denim jeans and form-fitting tops. Taking a deep breath, she grabbed her purse and identification before giving herself a quick look over in her rear-view mirror. Satisfied with what she saw, Ferro stepped out of the BMW and marched into the clinic.

* * *

Walking through the front door, Ferro was shocked to find a young woman come to her side.

"Where are you hurt?" the young woman asked.

"I…I'm not…" Ferro stumbled for an answer before being sat into a chair by the young woman.

"Please ma'am, I'm a professional. Now, were you hiking or…"

"Sofie!" an elderly man called as he strode to the entrance. "There are _real_ patients in need of _real_ care."

"Yes, Doctor; but this woman…" Sofie answered.

"_This woman_ appears to be in…_very fine_ health. You must learn to better discern between the cases and the visitors."

"Yes; Doctor," Sofie answered meekly.

"Now, see to that favorite of yours."

With a nod, Sofie scurried up the nearby staircase to the second floor. Looking toward Ferro, the elderly doctor shook his head.

"Please forgive Sofie, she is a bit overenthusiastic in her duties."

"Oh; that is quiet alright," Ferro answered.

"And I must ask you to forgive me, where are my manners? I am Alfredo Gianessi, and I operate this clinic you see here. Are you here to visit a patient?"

"No, Doctor I am not."

"Ah, then I extend my condolences."

"Excuse me."

"You must be here to identify one of the bodies in the basement."

"What?! No, no; Dr. Gianessi, I am here from the Social Welfare Agency."

"Please Miss, I beseech you. Do not play with an old man's emotions."

"I do not Doctor."

Pulling her identification out of her purse, Ferro held it out for Dr. Gianessi to inspect. After a minute, Dr. Gianessi wiped his brow with a handkerchief and took a seat beside Ferro.

"Forgive me, Miss…"

"Milani, but you may call me Ferro."

"If I had known you were to be arriving."

"I apologize for the intrusion Doctor, but I am only recently aware of this clinic. Now, if I may ask you a few questions?"

"Of course Miss Ferro, ask away."

"How long has this clinic been in operation?"

"We have been in operation since I finished renovating my home; which would be about 8 years ago."

"Excuse me, but your home; Doctor?"

"Yes, after I was…requested to retire from my post in Rome, I came to my family's summer home hear at the foot of the Alps."

"Why would you offer your own home?"

"This clinic is the only medical facility for 60 kilometers, Miss Ferro. Before I built it, there simply was nothing, save for the few retired doctors that remained in private practice."

"I see."

"Also, I was upset at how so few of the hospitals would see foreigners. People are people Miss Ferro, and we are such fragile creatures."

"Do you receive any aide from the State?"

"We receive a small subsidiary from Rome and the EU, but it is little more than a tribute. This place survives by the gratitude of its patients and the hearts of its volunteers."

"Gratitude, Doctor?"

"Yes, this is one of the few clinics that specialize in tending to foreigners almost exclusively. With our proximity to the Alps, most of the Italian Mountain Patrol will bring wounded hikers here instead of taking them all the way to Milan or Torino."

"Why is this Doctor?"

"French, Belgian, German, Austrian, Swiss, Spanish, Czech; everybody hikes those mountains Miss Ferro. In fact, the borders that interlace through those mountains are scarcely guarded if at all. It is customary for all hikers to carry their passports with them whenever trekking through even familiar terrain. Hikers get hurt all the time; and Italian Health Care is quite specific in caring for foreigners."

"I understand."

"So, I have answered your questions, now will you answer one of mine?"

"Of course, Doctor."

"Why is the famed Social Welfare Agency interested in my little clinic?"

"We are interested in extending our…services to smaller clinics instead of limiting them exclusively to the hospitals. We at the Social Welfare Agency believe that it will better serve Italy in this manner."

"And make for some excellent public relations while you're at it?"

Looking hard at the Doctor, Ferro was greeted by a sarcastic smile in turn.

"Forgive an old man; Miss Ferro," Alfredo chided in. "It is hard for someone here in the north to not here some of the banter that gets passed around."

"I…see."

"However, it appears as if my prayers have been answered."

"How so Doctor?"

"We have a patient that would be a possible candidate for your Agency, if not for the fact that we have no idea as to _who_ this boy is or _where_ he came from."

"A boy?" Ferro stuttered as she was maintained her composure by a string.

"Yes, he was discovered more than two weeks ago in the Alps. We believe he was a novice hiker who merely lost his way and eventually his supplies. When he was found; the boy was severely dehydrated, malnourished, and worst of all; unconscious."

"Has he made any progress Doctor?"

"Little if any, but it's hard to say. We've given him fluids and Miss Sofie, whom you met just now, has taken it upon herself to feed him thin meal for added nourishment."

"Yet, still no change?"

"I'm afraid not. Normally I would call an ambulance to transfer him to one of the better equipped hospitals in Torino or Milan; but when he was found, the boy had no identification to speak of."

"And so he remains a foreigner until identified or otherwise."

"Precisely; though it didn't help that Sofie suspects that he is Dutch and was very verbal as such."

"I see, m…may I see the boy?"

"Of course, I don't see why not."

* * *

As Ferro watched the boy being given a sponge bath by Sofie, she couldn't help but feel a small twinge of jealousy. Although handsome in his own right, the boy had many feminine features that set him apart from what she knew. Although a proper measurement would need to be done, the boy looked to be at least 150 cm tall, but no taller than 155cm. Far from what others considered a child, but not quite a man's height as he would still be shorter than herself. The boy also had a thin frame unlike most Italian boy's of his apparent age, save for the fashion models.

It crossed Ferro's mind that it might be due to his lack of proper nutrition, but Ferro was sure that the SWA medical team could maintain this in the least. Ferro's mind was officially made up at the glaringly apparent _fresh_ facial features of the child before her. Although his sandy blonde hair was unkempt, it framed the sides of his face as if to almost present the boy to Ferro. He did not look gruff, nor a product of machilismo; but absolutely and undeniably corruptible.

"Sofie surmises that he is either 14 or 15 years old at the most," Alfredo spoke to the secret delight of Ferro.

"That is very good," Ferro whispered.

"Excuse me?" Alfredo inquired.

"He meets our requirements perfectly."

"Requirements, Miss Ferro?"

"I'm sorry; yes, requirements. Due to the increasing need for the Agency's _services_, we have been forced to put into practice a set list of…guidelines as it were."

"I see, and you said that he fits these…guidelines."

"Yes, he does indeed. The boy is stable is he not?"

"From what I can tell he is."

"Perfect, I believe this boy deserves what we can offer and in return I can assure that your subsidiary is a simple tribute no longer. The work you do here is obviously important and needs to continue."

"Why thank you Miss Ferro."

"I grant you my word that it will be at the very least a modest increase."

"Wait," Sofie spoke up as she stood. "Does that mean the SWA will come here to treat Stefan?"

"Stefan?" Ferro asked intrigued.

"Excuse her; Miss Ferro," Alfredo chided in. "Sofie has a habit of naming the John and Jane Does."

"I see," Ferro answered. "Sofie, is it?"

"Yes," Sofie answered.

"It would be better for us to take the boy to Rome and treat him there so that he gets the very best treatment we have."

"Doctor," Sofie spoke up. "You can't let them do this. Stefan is comfortable here; there is no need to change his treatment."

"Sofie," Alfredo began again. "Stefan needs specialized care that I cannot provide. To keep him here will only prolong the inevitable."

"But…" Sofie whispered just above her restrained sobs.

"I'm sorry Sofie," Alfredo responded. "But this is the only chance he has of recovering. We can do nothing else for him."

Looking at Ferro once more, Sofie let her see the tears in her eyes before storming off. Turning to face Ferro, Dr. Gianessi was at a loss for words.

"Miss Ferro," Alfredo pleaded. "Please excuse her, she is young and…and…"

"Passionate," Ferro interrupted. "You have nothing to apologize for Doctor. Passion s a good thing to have in her position, it merely says that she cares deeply for the well-being of her patients. I assure you and her, I plan on giving much passion to this boy."


End file.
